A sweet fragrancea rousing chorusthe waves sang your praisecrashing on the rocksjust after the turn of the tidescoming in once morethe foretaste of high tidehours from this momentbut coming to be sureas sure as the tides

The waves sang your praiseand the wind joined in the chorusbringing with it a hint of the deepthe warming stones, new wet from the breakersa blending of the scentsbelow the cliff, at the water’s edge